


Costume Fitting

by azriona



Series: Advent Calendar Drabbles 2015 [14]
Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Advent Calendar Drabble, Costumes, Ice Capades, M/M, Pre-Slash, figure skating
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-14
Updated: 2015-12-14
Packaged: 2018-05-06 15:12:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5421719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/azriona/pseuds/azriona
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hockey players don't wear Lycra.  (Except when they do.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Costume Fitting

**Author's Note:**

> Day 14 of the Advent Calendar Drabbles for 2015. Today's prompt is from talloakslady, who actually wanted me to write about a costume fitting for a period drama. (She has her reasons. I've been present for some of those reasons. And when I say that I really, really wanted to try to include one of the craziest costume fitting stories about the most assholish of actors I ever met into this, she'll know exactly to what I am referring.)

“There,” said the designer, finishing her final touch, and she stepped back to observe the full glory of her design.  “Perfect.”

 

The Samwell Men’s Hockey team stood side-by-side in front of the wall-length mirror, staring at their reflections. 

 

Spangles.

 

Bangles.

 

Skin-tight Lycra.

 

Low-cut v-necks that displayed _just enough_ chest hair.

 

All in shades of fuchsia and turquoise, with silver and gold accents depending on the player, and in one case, gold braid and _ribbons_.

 

The team all wore varying expressions, most of them bordering on (if not full-fledged) horror.

 

Well.  Nearly all of them.  Some of them were just plain shocked.  Most of them were speechless.

 

_Most_ of them.

 

 “Oh, _hell_ no,” said Ransom finally, and unleashed the flood.

 

“Are these _sequins_?”

 

“Dude, I’m wearing feathers.  _Fea. Thers._ ”

 

“I think mine is two sizes too small.”

 

“I think it’s supposed to be that tight.”

 

“It’s _perfect_ ,” breathed Eric, eyes oval and shining.

 

“Of course you’d think it’s perfect, Bitty, you actually _have_ a butt in Lycra.”

 

“Excuse me, morons,” said Shitty loudly.  “We are wearing the outfits of Bitty’s skating origins in order to participate in the Make-a-Wish Foundation’s Christmas Ice Concert, and you are all going to fucking _shut the fuck up_ and _love it_.  And if I hear one more stereotypical male ego testosterone-induced sexuality-quivvering shit-parade on the fucking _good deed_ we are about to do, then whoever spouts it is going to be _giving_ tomorrow night’s required-attendance talk on the Insecurities of the American Male and How Hetero-normative Behaviors in Male Societies Are Destructive – DO I MAKE MYSELF CLEAR?”

 

The team was quiet for a moment.

 

Ransom cleared his throat.  “Sequin up, bro,” he said, and fist-bumped Holster.

 

“Sequin up,” replied Holster, and the team began to file out of the dressing room.

 

Eric stopped near Jack, who was still staring at his reflection in the mirror.

 

“Jack?” he asked, a bit nervously.  “Is… is this all right?  I mean, I know it’s probably more Lycra than you’re used to wearing—“

 

“Bittle,” said Jack finally, and he turned to Eric and stared again, as if he hadn’t actually seen Eric since… well, _ever_ , given the way his eyes got big and round, taking Eric in.

 

Eric, who was wearing a skin-tight black Lycra figure skating costume.  Silver sequins along the neckline, and only the barest hint of Bedazzling, just enough to emphasize the curves of his hips and planes of his chest.  His hair was already spiked up a bit, and his cheeks were flushed with excitement and energy.

 

Jack sucked in a breath.  “You look… good.”

 

Eric grinned.  “So do you.  Ready to take the figure skating world by storm?”

 

Really, it’d be a success if none of them fell over their toe picks.  But they weren’t meant to do much – just skate around while Eric did all the fun stuff in the middle.

 

Jack thought of Eric, spinning in a fast circle in the center, all shining light and speedy lines, and suddenly couldn’t wait.

 

“Ready,” said Jack, and let Eric lead the way.

 

Because that was what Eric always did.

 

(And whoever said it was right – his butt _did_ look better in Lycra.)

 

 


End file.
